


I Swear This Time I Mean It

by Whreflections



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Children of Earth Compliant, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whreflections/pseuds/Whreflections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>6 years after the events that followed from Earth's interactions with the 456, Jack isn't as nearly back to normal as he'd like to convince himself he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Swear This Time I Mean It

Cardiff bay was always beautiful at night. There was something in the lights mirrored on dark water that he loved, and he’d watched it more times than he could count. Tonight the water was quiet, largely still, and his eyes roved restlessly over it as he leaned hard against the railing. It’d been an exhausting week, and though he’d healed since his 12 story fall that morning his back still ached a little and he was weary down to his bones. Not that any of that particularly mattered, in the larger scheme of things. They’d dealt with the artifact, and for now, that particular case was closed.   
  
He didn’t jump when he felt the steady warmth of a hand against his shoulder, and he turned to face Ianto with a smile that came easily. “Hey there.”   
  
“Hey.” Ianto’s arms moved to slide around him but Jack caught them then, guided them under his coat to bring the two of them a little closer and his smile widened just a little when he felt Ianto meld against him, his face buried against his neck. “Tosh said you’d already come up here.”   
  
“Needed to get some air.” Jack shifted, leaned a little more against the railing as he rubbed one hand lazily against Ianto’s back, the other sliding up to tangle in his hair as he pressed a kiss to his temple. “And, I was waiting for you.”   
  
“Thoughtful of you.”   
  
“So…” He pulled back just enough to look Ianto in the eye, his hand still rubbing softly over the sleek black of his jacket. “Where to? What do you feel like?”   
  
“Like…” Ianto shrugged, his eyes darting away. “Like I’ve missed you, this week. Anything’s fine.”   
  
It tugged at him, but rather than say anything when he wasn’t sure  _what_  he’d even want to say, he kissed him. Ianto was impossible to resist with five feet between them and a blank look on his face but  _right here_  in Jack’s arms, looking that eager…  
  
Well, it easily went past irresistible. Jack cupped Ianto’s face in his hands, tilting his head back and kissing him deep until he could feel the insistent press of groping hands against still sore muscles in his back. When he pulled back he could hear Ianto’s breath catch, a little shaken, and heat settled into his veins at the sound. He could take Ianto’s breath with just a kiss nearly every time, and that would never cease to effect him.   
  
“So…dinner? We haven’t been to that little Japanese place in awhile.”   
  
Ianto’s fingers trailed across his cheek, his thumb tracing the shadow he knew had to be visible just under his eye. “Jack, you’re exhausted.”   
  
Beyond belief. But, there were more important things. Namely, the fact that since he’d come back, he’d been doing his damndest to make this a  _real_  relationship complete with frequent dates, time spent out in public together and plenty of time alone together. It was working and things had been good, and it had certainly been something he himself wanted for the two of them, but it was even more important to Ianto, and that was where things got tricky. He was still insecure, still uncertain. He wanted more commitment than Jack was ready to give, but just because he couldn’t give it right then didn’t mean he didn’t plan on wanting to at some point in the future. It wasn’t time for that yet, but it would be, down the road, and he didn’t want to lose Ianto before they ever got there just because he got it in his head that this wasn’t important to Jack. So, beyond the fact that they both enjoyed them, the dates were necessary to prove that yeah, all of this was going somewhere and it  _meant_  something. They hadn’t been out together or even spent any real time together away from the team in over a week, and no matter how  _damn_  good sleep sounded at the moment, it could wait.   
  
“Little bit of a rough day, yeah, but it’s over and-“  
  
“Jack, you hardly ever  _look_  exhausted. But you do now.” Ianto leaned in for a quick kiss, their lips barely brushing as his palm flattened against Jack’s cheek. “It’s ok, we don’t have to go anywhere.”   
  
“Sure we do.” He tightened his grip, one arm sliding all the way around Ianto’s waist to hold him fast. “I promised you a date tonight. That’s dinner at least.” And maybe something after, though he had no idea what movies were playing or what else they could do. Usually, at least  _one_  of them had time to give these things more thought.   
  
“But if we didn’t…” Ianto’s thumb brushed just under his eye, soft and slow. “If we were already past that part, what would you have in mind for after?”   
  
Jack tilted his head just right to let their lips meet in a kiss again, his teeth scraping gently as he pulled away. “Then I’d hope that by that point I’d convinced you to let me tag along home with you.”   
  
Ianto’s hand slid back to tangle in his hair, and when Ianto kissed him Jack could feel the smile just tugging at the corner of his lips. “Always. You’re always invited.”   
  
“Like the sound of that.”   
  
“Mm.” Jack tugged Ianto’s hands to wrap back around him again and he took control, tongue flicking coyly against his lower lip as they kissed until Ianto made a noise somewhere between pleasure and frustration and he gave in, giving himself a moment to revel in the taste. Times like this, he was pretty sure that even if they somehow could do this every day for the rest of  _his_  life, he’d never get tired of it.   
  
“Let’s go then.” They’d just barely pulled apart, breath chilling each other’s damp lips in the cold, and it took him a second to catch up to what Ianto was saying.   
  
“Dinner?”   
  
“No. Home.” Ianto’s voice rose just a little when Jack’s mouth opened, talking right over his objection before he could even make it. “We’ve got some of that Thai food left. It’s dinner; that’s a date. Then I can get you to bed.”   
  
“Please tell me there’s more to that last part.”   
  
He just caught the spark of amusement and the deeper heat of something else in Ianto’s eyes as he turned away, his hands trailing off of Jack’s waist. “Come on, it’s cold.”   
  
“That’d just be cruel, you know. I mean, on Tuesday we just-“  
  
“Are you coming?”   
  
“Well, -“  
  
“Don’t answer that.” He reached back, searching for Jack’s coat to pull him forward. Jack gave him his hand instead.   
  


‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’ 

**6 Years Later**

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

  
  
Leaving would’ve worked a lot better if Anna wasn’t such a light sleeper. Some nights he stayed, though he hadn’t actually _slept_  a full night beside her ever. If he fell asleep at all it was in the early morning hours after a night of lying awake, and even  _that_  was easier when he knew he’d be getting up in an hour or so for work.   
  
Tonight, though, he couldn’t bring himself to lay there. It felt wrong somehow and suddenly suffocating, and deep down he knew why. He’d wanted to belong here with her, sure, but even on the growing numbers of nights he’d spent here he never really had.   
  
6 years wasn’t long enough. He’d known it hadn’t been long enough when he came back to earth last year, really, but he’d run himself down enough to live with himself, for the time being at least. Besides, he knew Gwen needed him, knew she wanted to keep Torchwood going. In his absence she’d tried and managed for herself pretty damn well, but it wasn’t until he came back that they’d managed to rebuild the Hub and really get their feet back under them.   
  
So, he’d known that it hadn’t been long enough, but all the same he’d thought it was the right choice. He missed Gwen like a phantom limb and having her back was at first enough of a rush that he thought he could manage. She was the only part of this particular life that he hadn’t lost, the only ‘family’ he had to hang onto for the time being. And really, he could _manage_ , because he’d been through a hell of a lot in his time and he was almost certainly only destined to go through worse. But this with Anna, it just wasn’t working.   
  
The night before he’d dreamed about Ianto. It had been vivid and  _real_ , a memory that had hardly felt like a dream at all except for the snatches of time it had skipped. They’d been by the bay and he could smell the night air and feel the wind on his face and taste Ianto on his tongue. Even the sound of his voice had been right, like it was  _right there_ , all soft and familiar. From there he’d known that they made their way back to Ianto’s flat but if he’d dreamed that part it’d left him when he woke up. He’d woken up instead to memories of eating Thai out of the box at the island in the kitchen and going to bed before 10:30. From there he could remember everything with perfect clarity, from the way Ianto’d pushed him gently back onto the bed to the way the flex of his muscles had felt under Jack’s hands as Ianto rode him. He’d fallen asleep first and woken up last, and they’d made breakfast together in the kitchen before work. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten those things, not by a long shot, but having them thrust into his memory like that, so fresh right behind his eyes…he couldn’t stay here tonight. It was too much.   
  
Over the course of his life, he had a lot of regrets. Considering how long he was going to live, he knew that was something he was just going to have to accept. Everyone had them, and being human he was going to end up accumulating a hell of a lot more than someone could in an average lifespan, but all the same that didn’t make them feel any easier to bear.   
  
Contrary to popular belief, he was capable of commitment. Honestly. He’d been married more than once and he’d certainly be willing to do it again, but what he  _didn’t_  do was rush into anything. People these days seemed to think that dating for a year or two was  _forever_  and any longer than that meant that one out of the two of them wasn’t serious if they hadn’t moved in by then, and all of it was just societal conventions that were too rigidly indicative of this time and place for him to care about making himself conform to them. He could do serious, but that was sort of the point…with Ianto, it  _had_  been serious. Serious in the sense that Ianto had been his lover and his friend and the most important person in his life, and in a couple more years he’d have been ready to take it farther than that. He’d already thought about it, in the back of his mind, because yeah, he’d been fully expecting to see Ianto die of old age. He wanted to  _be there_  when it happen, to hold his hand and give him comfort and know that whatever happened after death, they’d at least had one hell of a life.   
  
Thinking about it now, he knew that he had never all the way believed that. He’d  _wanted_  it, sure, but this was Torchwood, and he knew the dangers. He just hadn’t wanted to let himself think about them. He hadn’t done anything  _wrong_ , not strictly, not when  _he_  knew what he hoped for their future, but he hadn’t exactly done everything right either, and if he had the chance to do it all over with everything he knew now, he’d have told Ianto everything. He’d told him that he loved him, plenty of times, but there were other important things, like the fact that at some point, he wanted to meet Rhiannon and Johnny and the kids. He wanted to get a different mattress for the flat that would hopefully eventually be  _their_  flat, one that didn’t dip in the center. He wanted to get some better furniture for the living room, make it look like people actually  _lived_ there.   
  
He wanted to introduce him to Alice and Stephen.   
  
He might’ve run far enough to get the incessant pressure in his head down just below the boiling point, but not by much. It was all too damn much, all still burning at him from the inside out, because everything that had happened in that whole godawful week could be trailed back to being his fault if he thought about it long enough. Every single thing. Most of it wasn’t even very hard to connect. He’d known that getting over Stephen’s loss at his own hands would take decades, and he was as prepared as he ever could be to deal with the consequences of all that baggage if he had a child anytime in the relatively near future. Ianto, though…that was another matter entirely.   
  
You never ‘got over’ someone you loved. Not really. He’d loved enough to know that by now. It was more something he just got past, something that soaked in and wove into his skin until one day it was just a part of him and he didn’t even know when it had happened. The memories because staples, pieces of another time and he could look back on them and remember how good it had been far more than how much losing it had hurt. When he’d met Anna, he’d thought that maybe enough time had passed that he was starting to get to that point. She’d had a weevil in her basement and they’d taken care of it for her, and after he’d run into her again around town mostly by accident, he’d decided to ask her out to dinner which had turned into dinner, a movie, and sex in the SUV, and everything had gone from there. He’d thought he was alright with it all,  _happy_  even, but the more he’d thought about it in the past couple weeks the more he’d realized that he was just going through the motions. It wasn’t even rebound, it was something less than that. The pre-rebound relationship?  _Was_  there even such a thing?   
  
“Jack?”   
  
He jerked a little at the feel of her hand against his back, her fingertips cold against bare skin. “Hey.” He smiled absently in the dark even though he knew she couldn’t see, and he reached back to take her hand in his, bring it around to brush his lips over her knuckles. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”   
  
“You didn’t. Not really. Jack…” She squeezed his hand once before pulling hers away, and it just barely ghosted across his back before it was gone entirely. Without turning he could hear her shifting on the mattress, pulling the sheet up over her chest. He knew her well enough now to be sure just how she was sitting against the headboard, knees drawn up as she leaned back against the wood and watched him. “You can go, you know. You don’t have to pretend you weren’t.”   
  
Even though that was exactly what he’d been planning, it still made him feel like a terrible person to hear  _her_  say it. “Anna, I-“  
  
“It’s alright, Jack. I’ve been…I’ve been thinking. Honestly, I’ve been thinking for awhile now and it’s been really stupid and selfish of me not to say anything, but I know…I know your heart’s not in this. And don’t…don’t try to tell me it is.”   
  
Honestly, he hadn’t been about to. He couldn’t lie convincingly, not about that. The best he’d be able to do was convince her that he wanted to try anyway, and he wasn’t even sure he could be mildly convincing on that score with the way he was feeling. His shoulders sagged just a little anyway, and her hand rubbed over his back again as he turned to face her.   
  
“You’re…you’re somewhere else, all the time. If I’m honest with myself I think you probably have been the whole time but I just…well, I wanted it to work, so I kept hoping it might. And I’m sorry for that, because you-“  
  
“No.” Somewhere in here, he had to say something. “No, Anna, don’t be sorry. I should’ve…” Told her sooner that this was never going to go anywhere. Or that it never should’ve even almost gone anywhere at all. “I’m sorry.” He could see in the dark just enough to see that though she certainly looked worn talking about it, she wasn’t crying. That was something, at least.   
  
“It’s alright. It was just…nice, having you around, now and then. For Jamie, too. He’s never had a proper man in his life and he honestly liked you and I thought…I thought maybe that meant something.”   
  
“I’ll come see him.”   
  
“He’d like that.”   
  
He would, too, even if it took a little more of the sanity he had left. Jamie was older, 14, and he had black hair and blue eyes and he played cello and studied too much, but he was a good kid and his dad had never taken two seconds of interest in him. Jack had been in the kid’s life intermittently for the past seven months, and he’d probably managed to break his mother’s heart, even if she wasn’t showing it just then. Stopping by for a visit every now and then was probably the least he could do.   
  
Right now, though, he had to get out of here. Here where he could feel her eyes still on him the guilt was choking him, and he just couldn’t deal with it, not on top of everything else that’d already been weighing on him since he’d woken up that morning missing Ianto so much he could hardly breathe.   
  
He was just about to stand up when he felt her hand on him again, lingering this time, and he froze until she spoke.   
  
“Are you alright, Jack?”   
  
An interesting question. “…I don’t know. I don’t think so.” If he was alright, if there was nothing wrong with him, then surely he’d have been more ‘alright’ by now. Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it, and even if he decided it did, that didn’t mean he wanted it to be here and now, with her. He dressed quick, not even bothering to button his shirt all the way before he leaned over and kissed her, his hand cupping gently against her cheek. “I’m sorry, Anna.”   
  
“It’s alright. Really.” The sheet rustled as he drew it up just a little higher towards her neck, and she reached up with her other hand to pull him back in for one more quick kiss. “Take care of yourself, please. I do worry about you, you know.”   
  
And if she actually knew something substantial about him, she’d have worried more. “I’ll be fine.” He hesitated, wanted to say something that wasn’t as trite as ‘it’s not you it’s me’, wanted to let her know that he’d been stupid to ever try this at all just now but he really just didn’t know what to say. When he opened his mouth he could tell he was about 5 seconds from apologizing again and that wouldn’t do either of them any good so he shut his mouth and shook his head, tried in vain to clear his thoughts. “I’ll…I’ll see you. Soon.” If for no other reason than to tell her goodbye more properly than this, because his head wasn’t right just then and he couldn’t have really been expected to all the way make sense, not when he just wanted to get the hell out, to be alone somewhere that he could think without feeling guilty about the things he was thinking.   
  
At the first pub he passed he went in and ordered an Irish coffee, but by the time he got around to actually taking a sip of it, it was cold. 


End file.
